


Hour After Midnight: Lovers Confidant

by arcanawildcard, clairelutra



Series: Shuann Week 2020 [1]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dark Hour (Persona 3), F/M, Humor, Identity Porn, Mutual Pining, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-02-23 11:07:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23510542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcanawildcard/pseuds/arcanawildcard, https://archiveofourown.org/users/clairelutra/pseuds/clairelutra
Summary: Terrible creatures lurk in the dark, preying on the dreams of those wandering through the hidden hour that lies between one day and the next. As the only one who can truly bring these creatures to their end, Akira, the Trickster, must wield his inner power—Persona—and protect humanity from impending doom.Fortunately, he's not alone.—and he would be evenlessalone if he just listened to his friendly neighborhood werecat pal andtalked to that Ann Takamaki girl already.Come oooon, she's perfect Confidant material, seriously!(A P5/P3-ish remix that sneezes vaguely in the direction of both its canons and then wanders off in another direction entirely. Alternate Lovers Confidant Link.)ON HIATUS
Relationships: Amamiya Ren/Takamaki Ann, Kurusu Akira/Takamaki Ann, Persona 5 Protagonist/Takamaki Ann, Suzui Shiho & Takamaki Ann
Series: Shuann Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1692796
Comments: 12
Kudos: 32





	Hour After Midnight: Lovers Confidant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO it be [shuann week](https://shuannweek.tumblr.com/).
> 
> i was gonna try to participate normally, but never in my life have i successfully participated in any ship week, SO INSTEAD: i'm clearing out (or trying to clear out) my fairly sizeable backlog of drafts that languish in partial-completeness hell.
> 
> one day... one day i'll get back to weekly updates. lol.

It was a little after noon, towards the end of lunch break, and Akira was studiously pretending not to watch the hem of Takamaki-san's skirt as it shifted up and down the same three centimeters of her thighs. The owner of those thighs was resting her weight against her desk and laughing with Suzui-san, who'd commandeered her seat.

"You know, I bet Takamaki-san would make a _great_ confidant," Morgana said for the first time this week, cautiously poking his nose out of the desk and staring at Akira with wide, expectant eyes.

It was, of course, only Tuesday. Akira predicted hearing it plenty more in the upcoming days.

He glanced down at the werecat, nodded just the same as always, and went back to transferring his notes to their correct notebook. At this point, the reminders were barely more than background noise.

Morgana pulled his head back into the desk with a soft sigh.

It wasn't that he didn't want Takamaki-san as a confidant, he just... didn't want Takamaki-san to _be_ his confidant, so to speak.

Being a confidant was... dangerous. It meant being awake during the Dark Hour when all the Shadows came out to play. It meant talking with Joker, who was a shadow _magnet._ It meant spending most of those terrifying nights alone as he tried to do his rounds and track down the Palace bounties in the span of one warped, exhausting hour.

Sure, people _couldn't_ become his confidants unless they could handle that, but Takamaki-san...

"Hey, what do you think, Kurusu-san?" said Takamaki-san in real-space, smack dab in the middle and yet far away from the worst the Dark Hour had to offer.

Akira flinched, looking up to find both Takamaki-san and Suzui-san watching at him expectantly.

At his blink, Suzui-san elaborated, "Joker—fiction or reality?"

It took him a beat to realize that she was asking if she thought _Joker_ was real or fake, not asking him his preferences on metaphysical concepts, during which Takamaki-san huffed, "Reality! Come _on,_ Shiho!"

And she knew that because she'd met him.

(Her arm had been too soft under his grip; he'd left bruises when he wrenched her out of the reach of Kamoshida's lolling tongue and greedy hands, out of the trap of Suzui-san's sprawling iron chains and dead-eyed gorgon's gaze while he snarled at her to _just run_ —)

"The Dark Hour isn't even real!" Suzui-san said, blandly amused. She was fully dressed now, not just wrapped up in chains that barely covered the important parts, and if he never saw her naked again, it would be too soon. "It's a collective nightmare. You can't meet anyone for real in a nightmare."

Which was what it was to most people. If you had the right kind of wavelength, you could remember bits and pieces of it—sometimes even all of it. Takamaki-san was one of the few people who could remember the whole Dark Hour like she was wide awake, while Suzui-san's dream-self had been purged alongside Kamoshida's. If Igor was right, she couldn't even access the Dark Hour anymore.

Takamaki-san's long eyelashes dipped over eyes as clear as the sky as she touched her left forearm. The gesture was almost a caress. "I _know_ it sounds crazy, but..."

"Probably just a dream," Akira said, surgically removing any kind of tone from his voice as he pretended his stomach hadn't just flipped.

Takamaki-san's face fell, letting go of her arm so she could scrub the back of her head instead. "Mm..."

"Okay," said Suzui-san, humoring her friend. "So, say he does exist and you really did see him. What was he like? Cool? _Dreamy?"_

 _Urk._ He didn't know if he wanted to hear the answer or not. Both choices seemed equally terrible.

Hope rode on the _prettiest girl he'd ever seen_ thinking he was cool, while realistic expectations said she probably hadn't even registered him on her radar.

Takamaki-san pursed her glossy pink lips into a moue, pausing a moment to think, and Akira's breath caught for more reasons than one.

_Please..._

"He seemed kinda stressed, actually."

Akira wanted to _die._

Of _all_ the people to end up looking uncool in front of...

To add insult to injury, Suzui-san had been startled into laughing. "I hadn't heard _that_ one before."

"I-I mean! It's true!" Takamaki-san squeaked, cheeks darkening as she flapped her hands. Her fluster died fast, though, fading into a pensive look. "...I hope he's doing okay now. He told me to run and I did, but..."

She trailed off to frown out the window, and the concern in her gaze added a different kind of warmth to the blazing embarrassment in the pit of his stomach.

"I'm sure he's fine," he found himself saying, and then, remembering his previous stance, he hurriedly tacked on, _"If_ he exists, I mean."

Abruptly finding himself the focus of a soft, wide-eyed gaze, he fought the urge to clear his throat. "That was right at the start of the sightings, and they kept happening after that, right?"

A smile bloomed over her face like a drop of rosy dye in water, and a sheepish, easy giggle followed it into existence. "You're right."

"Don't encourage her," Suzui-san said, only addressing Akira on a pretense while he was busy trying to keep his face under control. "At this rate, she's going to set all her standards based on a literal dream guy."

"'Stressed' is a tough act to follow," he agreed, carefully bland.

And 'nonchalance' was his only defense at this point.

"I mean, 'stressed' isn't exactly..." Takamaki-san trailed off, eyes shifting around the room and landing on him more often than not. The tips of her ears were turning red.

"Isn't what?" Suzui-san nudged, entertained.

Takamaki-san pressed a hand to her face and groaned, absently locking her other arm under her chest. "Never mind."

Akira ripped his eyes away from the _squish_ of the gesture before she could catch him, twirling his pencil between his fingers. "Now I'm curious."

If 'nonchalance' was his only defense, then 'understatement' was an old friend.

She didn't answer for a long moment—long enough to wind the suspense painfully tight— then shifted her hand a little further over her face and said, "Nngh... I mean... he _was_ stressed, but it was kinda..." Her face was absolutely scarlet. "...hot... I guess..."

Akira's lungs tried to expand and contract at the same time, the pencil flying out of his grasp and skittering across the floor.

"He was stressed and that was hot," Suzui-san echoed flatly, and Takamaki-san hid behind both hands.

Mostly Akira was just trying not to choke as he assimilated the information that _Ann motherfucking Takamaki_ thought he was attractive under any circumstances whatsoever. He'd question those circumstances... later. Once his pulse returned to a reasonable rhythm and he wasn't finding it quite so hard to fight down the dumb grin.

"That came out so wrong," she sighed. "I mean... passionate? Intense? Stressed, but like... badass, y'know?"

He could feel Morgana's stare absolutely burning into his skin—skin that was warming up anyway, because his cool wasn't weathering the barrage of praise too well—and then abruptly, found himself the target of a second, much more electric stare.

Takamaki-san looked more alarmed than he'd ever seen _anyone_ look outside of open combat.

"I-I-I mean!" she stuttered, staring at him like he was an unexpected mouse in a cereal box. "You'd kind of expect that, right?" She then switched her gaze to fix on the wall across from them. "He's, like, pretty much a legend at this point! H-he probably saves damsels in distress all the time. I'd be super surprised if he even remembered me or anything—it's not like I'd be special to someone like that! ...Ahaha... ha..."

Now it was Takamaki-san who looked like she wanted to die.

"I don't know," he said slowly, trying to parse that reaction. "You're pretty unforgettable."

A beat, and then Suzui-san wolf-whistled under her breath, and Akira abruptly realized that that came out a lot more _forward_ than it had sounded inside his head.

"Oh," squeaked Takamaki-san.

An awkward silence fell.

Right. So. They needed at least two rocks here—one each for him and Takamaki-san to crawl under. He'd share, but he didn't think he could bring himself to look at her face right now.

"You two are _incredible,"_ Suzui-san said enigmatically, and with that, she got up and searched for Mishima. "Mishima-kun, do you know what Mr. Kondo wanted us to bring to volleyball today?"

Takamaki-san mechanically reclaimed her seat, her ears and the back of her neck bright pink, and Akira was left to suffer with the follies of his own mouth.

...At least he'd made her blush?

* * *

It was that night that he heard the scream.

He'd just finished up with Iwai, leaving the weapons dealer with both his knives _and_ his gun to upgrade over the next few days, because of course he had, and was prepared to sneak all the way to the Velvet Room when it rang through his ears just a few blocks away.

He fought with himself for a few seconds (ignoring _anyone_ who could scream was nigh unthinkable, but he had no weapons other than spells and as the Trickster, the whole city would be sunk if _his_ dreamself met an end) and then the screamer spoke, wavering and terrified:

"Oh-kay that is _seriously freaky_..."

And his feet were moving.

Takamaki-san was on the ground, facing a crowd of Mokoi—which was really, really bad, but not nearly as bad as it could have been. At least it wasn't a crowd of Makami.

He gave up on all pretenses of stealth as he launched himself forward, just barely getting there in time to body-block a blow (fucking _ow_ ), haul Takamaki-san up into a crouch, and pull her into his side.

No time to think about how close she was, or how he could smell her (slightly stale, still intoxicating) perfume—only time to make sure he had a lock on every Shadow there before he called on Baal and barked, _"Magarudyne!"_

No sense in taking any chances here.

Wind whipped around in a vortex of magic air-bldes, and then every last Shadow disintegrated in a mist of corruption, dispersing into the night like they'd never been there in the first place.

He breathed in deep (perfume-skin-cosmetics closer than the asphalt and street-smells), then exhaled a sigh, the strain of the spell settling between his ears.

_Soft._

The lithe girl pressed into him, to be specific.

Lithe and possibly a little traumatized and _definitely_ not in bed like she should be when the Dark Hour struck; what was she even _doing_ here?

He let go and eased away, noting that he could feel her pulse when he trailed his hand over her shoulder blades. That couldn't be good for her—he shouldn't be able to _feel_ it, even if there were a lot less cloth between his palm and her back than normal. She wasn't wearing her standard fifteen layers she always seemed to wear when she was out of school, instead wearing a dress that was light and pink that fell halfway down her thighs.

(It didn't hug her chest even as much as her school uniform did, but. Thighs. He could cut his losses.)

"Are you okay?" he checked.

"Um. No? Y-yes?" She blinked rapidly at the spot where the closest Mokoi had met its demise, then looked up. "Joker!?"

"Were you expecting someone else?" he said, bemused.

"Uh! No! Well!" She flushed. "I-I just wasn't expecting you, I guess."

"I'm not the type to ignore a damsel in distress," he replied about as casually as he could. (Read: not particularly casual at all.)

She blinked once and blushed prettily, then giggled, "Guess not, huh."

Well, okay then.

Not like he needed that particular heart anyway.

He offered her his hand, then found that he wasn't quite prepared to have hers actually in it.

(Soft, delicate, soft, both stronger and weaker than he'd expected, warm, _soft._ )

He automatically helped her to her feet, only semi-remembering what he'd been going to say when they stood there with her fingers lingering in his palm, her lips parted and her blush unfading as she stared at the point of contact.

...Not that that was helping him _remember_ anything, but he managed to summon the words through the rosy haze at that moment, so.

"Let me walk you home."

She opened her mouth like she was going to argue, then glanced at where the crowd of Mokoi had been and winced sheepishly. "Maybe... that's a good idea." Smiling like the dawning sun, she added, "Thank you."

He gave into temptation and squeezed her fingers before he let go. "My pleasure."

* * *

He couldn't resist showing off a little as he accompanied her to the residential area she lived in, and he was paying for it by the time they reached her house.

It was astonishingly clear of miasma, even for a residence, and he couldn't help but wonder if anyone except Takamaki-san even lived here. She never talked about her home life much, if at all.

"So... I guess that makes two times you've saved me now," she murmured shyly, hesitating before she approached her front gate.

"Anytime."

"O-okay, but!" She pointedly stepped around him, her pretty nose raised up in the air. "I owe you, okay?"

"You don't—"

"I totally do."

Her tone brooked no arguments, and it was then that Joker realized where this was going.

Sure enough, she started rooting around in her bag, making the cutest little noises as she searched, then pulled out a pen and a tarot card from a very familiar deck.

"Oh, this'll work," she mumbled. "Wonder how it got in here?"

His stomach was sinking as he watched her draw _iOU_ on the front in large letters, dot her 'i' with a heart, then sign it in much smaller, more garbled writing before pushing it into his hands.

"Here. Maybe it's a liiiittle silly, but call on me, okay? I'll do whatever I can. Promise."

And Joker knew very well that she would, because as soon as the card was in his hands, the world throbbed dark, Lavenza's voice lilting through his head.

_Congratulations, Joker. You have gained Ann Takamaki's favor and obtained access to the **Lovers Arcana**. You now have access to **all** of the **Lovers Personas** and may use the skill **Charm** outside of battle. Come and talk to me later if you would like to know more about it._

...Sometimes, Joker really had to question whether or not he lived in a video game.

"Nice card," was all he really had to say once the world had lightened up again.

"Huh?"

He showed her the card, rather unnecessarily, but apparently she hadn't fully registered the message she'd given him, because she did a double-take and squinted at it, then _squawked._

Presumably at the _The LOVERS_ text at the bottom.

"I— no, that's! Not what I—! That's _totally_ not—"

_Cuuuuute._

She looked at his face and the half-grin on it, and groan-slash-whimpered. "You know what I mean."

"I do," he reassured her, then tapped the corner of the card against his mouth and winked. "Thanks."

She gave him a _really_ weird look for that, her eyes _huge_ and her mouth contorted, then dove for the gate and popped open the latch with a, "Anyway, thankyousomuch I'm, uh, in your debt, seeyoulater!"

"...See you," he echoed, bemused, as she got through the front door and snapped it shut behind her.

Was it something he'd said?

* * *

"So, _Lovers_ Arcana, huh?"

"Oh, shut up," Joker muttered, standing in the middle of the Velvet Room and picking twigs out of his hair. He'd had to make a few hasty dives to avoid the Shadows on his way back, having blown through most of his SP delivering Takamaki-san back to her place.

Morgana's cat ears now flicked in a nest of messy curls, glowing blue eyes set in a face that, except for the fangs and aforementioned ears, was a deadringer for Akira's elementary school graduation portrait.

"It suits Takamaki-san _so_ well," he said on a dreamy sigh, then shot Joker a fangy grin. "Lucky you."

"You do know the Lovers card is about hard choices, not romance, right?" he grumbled, feeling something in his chest flush, and scrubbed both hands through his hair to check for any more debris.

"Details, details!" Morgana set his hands on his hips and leaned forward, long tail swishing behind him. "Betcha looking forward to seeing her again soon, riiiiight?"

Joker shot the catboy a look. "Sure. In school. Where she's _safe."_

"That's not what I meeeeant," Morgana whined. "She thinks Joker's _totally the coolest._ You can't pass up a chance like this!"

Joker ignored him.

"Igor, take us out of the Dark Hour, please."

"Quite so," Igor said, setting out a single faceless card and flipping it over in a glow of pure white.

And tonight's Dark Hour was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> playing around a little with characterization and dynamics here, and this is one of my first real forays into worldbuilding, so lmk if anything's awkward or unclear! and if you had suggestions for fixing it, that's be 👌👌👌 fantastique.
> 
> also this was written entirely so joker and ann could have marichat-style balcony meetings. just thought y'all should know.


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